


Jasmine: Attachment, Amiability, Love, Death

by Lythalia (orphan_account)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 10:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15459630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Lythalia
Summary: In his mind, he knew the intense stress of the last few days was over, but he couldn’t convince himself. He was tense, felt like his strings were wound so tight they would snap. He kept expecting to be attacked, and his hand fell defensively around his component bag, every sound leaving him jumping to think of a spell.It was so strange, to see everyone trying to act normally.But. Not everyone.Behind him, a heavy footfall shifted the wood of the cart.





	Jasmine: Attachment, Amiability, Love, Death

It was early morning when the Mighty Nein woke up, and the sky was clear. It was cold, and the night’s snow had dusted everything in sight with a thin layer of white. Birds sang and tweeted in the verdant evergreens surrounding the road, flying through the pale blue sky between the trees.

The Mighty Nein’s cart had been set up a bit off the road, in a small clearing. Its inhabitants had begun to get up and move around, starting their daily rituals.

Fjord was trying to feed the remaining horses while strapping on his armor, hopping around in one boot and juggling a bag of feed. Beauregard was stretching outside her tent, groaning as she popped her spine. Yasha had gotten stuck in her tent, and was trying to casually untangle herself from the metal sticks and folds of fabric without drawing attention. Jester had climbed the tallest of the surrounding trees and was standing precariously on a branch with an armful of snowballs. Nott was under her, stalking a rabbit with her new crossbow out.

Caleb sat crisscross in the cart, watching them all through the opening.

In his mind, he knew the intense stress of the last few days was over, but he couldn’t convince himself. He was tense, felt like his strings were wound so tight they would snap. He kept expecting to be attacked, and his hand fell defensively around his component bag, every sound leaving him jumping to think of a spell.

It was so strange, to see everyone trying to act normally.

But. Not everyone.

Behind him, a heavy footfall shifted the wood of the cart, and Caleb flinched.

All things considered, Caduceus had settled into their little group rather well. He wasn’t replacing Mollymauk, Caleb had convinced himself, just filling an empty space in the team. Besides, it was plain as day that his presence was helping things. He was easily the stablest member despite being the newest, and his entire being seemed to calm things down, remind everyone to stop and take a breath. Plus, he liked healing, which was more than Jester could say. Having two clerics was certainly going to be an advantage in the long run.

It was what Molly would’ve wanted. Or so Caleb tried to tell himself.

Caduceus walked into view, and descended into a kneel besides Caleb.

He was out of his armor, wearing only a pair of loose cotton pants and his tattered silken shirt. Without the chitin platemail, it was all the more obvious just how unnervingly thin he was. His ribs and spine were protruding, and despite the cesious fur on them his collarbones were deep divots.

In his giant, clawed hand Caduceus held two chipped ceramic mugs. He offered one to Caleb.

“How about some tea?” he drawled, voice smooth.

Caleb looked up at him, and couldn’t stop himself from taking in his features. Much like the rest of him, Caduceus’ cheekbones were sharp and sunken. Between them, his bovine nose was wide and rosy.

“That sounds great right about now.” Caleb answered, voice hoarse. He tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but he still felt tired. With his free hand, he took the cup. For a brief moment, their hands brushed

Caduceus smiled. His lips were full and catlike.

Caleb watched as he reached to his side and rummaged through his pack, eventually pulling out a kettle and several mismatched jars, setting them down around them one by one. Finally, he placed a small portable stove between them and struck a match in its opening, igniting the kindling already inside.

The kettle was laid on its stove, perhaps already full, and Caleb closed his eyes. Tried to take a breath.

The winter air was cold and refreshing in his lungs, mixed with the smells of pine on the wind. His friends were laughing and talking just yards away, snow crunching under their feet.

Inhale.

Exhale.

When he opened his eyes, the water was bubbling to the crackling of the fire.

Caduceus moved the kettle to the floor, and snuffed out the flames. His head turned to the doorway to the cart, hair falling over his shoulders. Outside, Fjord was wrestling his vambrace from a horse's mouth.

“The snow is beautiful. I’ve alway been weak to the cold, but that’s why tea is served warm.”

Caleb grunted in agreement, handing his cup over to be filled. Caduceus picked up the kettle, cradling it in his large hands, and filled both of their cups halfway. Then, he unsealed one of the glass jars, taking the last of the herbs inside and dropping them into their cups. The leaves and flowers sunk in, and the water darkened immediately. Caleb reached for his, but Caduceus’ palm dropped in front of him.

“I haven’t finished yet.”

“Oh.”

Caduceus unhooked his canteen, clicking the top open. He poured something out of it into their tea, a thin white liquid.

“You keep creamer in your flask?” Caleb asked, bemused. Caduceus laughed.

“No. It’s just milk.”

He began unscrewing several of the containers, adding things. Caleb watched him work, methodically swirling spoonfuls of honey into the mugs.

“I’ve always, uh, I’ve always ran a bit hot. I’m from Zemni. We’re… we’re pretty used to the cold, there.” Caleb said, scratching his neck. “But, I’ve been trying to cool off a bit lately.”

“Why not stay there, then?” Caduceus glanced up, his eyes shimmering as he blinked slowly. They were beautiful, a pastel pink with flecks of purple. Caleb thought of Frumpkin, fluttering his eyes at Caleb when he was in a particularly good mood in the way that cats did.

“Well, I mean, cool off in the metaphorical sense. I was, I guess I was trying to be eloquent.”

“Oh!” Caduceus said, sprinkling a pinch of sugar over the cups.

From somewhere, Jester shrieked as she fell out of a tree and into a patch of snow at least a foot deep.

“I’ll admit, with that in mind, it has been nice having someone so… Someone who is not constantly freaking out with us.” He said. Another slow blink.

“...Yasha?”

“Uh. No, you, my friend.” Caduceus brightened in front of him, letting chunks of cinnamon fall into their drinks with a plop. “Yasha is quite, well, she is more stoic than calm.” Caduceus hummed in agreement.

“I had tea with her yesterday. She knows flower language, but not which ones are inedible. I had to stop her from adding harebell to hers.”

Caleb chuckled, and tried not to think too hard about Yasha. It was selfish, but thinking about Yasha would lead him to thinking about Yasha’s emotional state, which would lead him to thinking about-

“She is very helpful. She shaves me.” he said, and then grimaced to himself. Caduceus slowed his hands, and examined him intensely. Caleb shifted uncomfortably. Caduceus was holding a little bottle in one hand, its cork in the other. The strong smell of vanilla wafted between them as drops feel into the tea.

“You look very handsome. She did a good job.” Caduceus smiled again, warm and brimming with amiability.

Caleb's words died in his throat, and looked away as he felt his face heat up. Just a few meters away, Yasha herself was standing, freed from the tent, but at what cost? She was holding the pitching stick in her hands, now snapped in half, and sweating profusely. She began to run towards Jester, who was making snow angels. However, she failed to notice that part of the stick was still attached to the tent itself, and pulled it along as she jogged.

“The tea is done.”

Caleb looked back over, and Caduceus had his arm extended in Caleb’s direction, offering the drink. Steam billowed from it in the chilled air, and what smell made its way to Caleb was heavenly.

He took it gingerly, and brought the cup to his mouth. As soon as he took a sip, he practically melted.

It had probably been years since he had had a good cup of tea, and this tea was perhaps the best he’d ever drank. The herbs blended together with a floral, spicy flavor. It was soft and gentle on his taste buds, warm but not too hot. The sugar had melted in, well stirred. Saccharine, almost.

Caleb let his eyes fall shut and swirled the liquid around in his mouth, savoring it until it lost its heat. He swallowed it down, and it left a residue of honey on his tongue.

“...Is this jasmine?” he asked, lips smacking. His shoulders slumped. His eyes had opened and then fallen half lidded as he grinned. In front of him, Caduceus grinned also, taking a sip from his cup.

“From my garden, yes.”

Caleb semi-expected his stomach to turn at the thought of the cemetary and the things growing in it. He imagined the firbolg picking flowers off of vine covered headstones. It didn’t. He took another sip, and spoke up.

“I’m surprised you still have so many cuttings left. I’ve… I’ve seen you drink a lot of tea.” Caleb could’ve felt like crying at the thought of how much amazing tea he had missed out on in the last few weeks, but he was too relaxed to care. He leaned back against the cart’s wall, steadying himself. It was like a burden was being lifted from him with every drink he took, and it was by far the best he’d felt in weeks, months even.

“I grow a lot of plants. But this is the last of my jasmine.” Caduceus responded jovially, stirring his cup with a teaspoon almost comically small in his grasp. Caleb gulped.

“You didn’t have to waste them on me.” he said, suddenly feeling guilty. Caduceus looked at him curiously, tilting his head to the side.

“What would the point of making tea be if I didn’t share it with someone?” he said, soft voice echoing in Caleb’s head. It was like the rest of the world had faded away into white noise, and all that was left was them. Sitting together, drinking tea. The world felt gentle to him for the first time in years.

“When… When you lived alone, you were still making tea.” he stated. His stomach felt warm and full.

The edges of Caduceus’ clefted lips curled in a kind smile.

“I was never alone. Even now, we’re sharing this moment with at least several people.” He punctuated his sentence with a long, slow sip.

“Oh.” Caleb said, stupidly. His eyes drifted to the soft leather of Caduceus’ boots. To the salmon mildew growing on it, creeping up the outline of his hooved foot. “Nila… the druid woman… she told me something. Us. To see the dead in nature’s beauty. Is that… are the dead...” he struggled to find his words, but Caduceus waited calmly, his cup almost empty.

“... Is that something firbolgs… believe?” Caleb finished, raising an eyebrow.

“I am sure there are firbolgs who believe that. I have not been with my family in at least thirty seasons, let alone any clan.”

“Oh.” Caleb said again. Nott ran past the cart at full speed, screaming her head off, followed by Beau and Jester. They were both armed with snowballs.

“But…” Caduceus began. “I don’t think that’s such a bad thing to think.”

Caleb peered into his almost empty cup, staring at the shriveled flowers and bits of spice that remained. He closed his eyes one last time, and put his head back, draining the rest of the cup. He felt the herbs, soft and damp, fall down his throat as he swallowed them, into the pit of his stomach. The tea had warmed him, had loosened his bones and maybe, if Caleb was feeling hopeful enough, eased something painful inside of him.

“Yes.” he said, and smiled. He looked outside at his friends, his _family_ , playing and laughing in the snow like children. Looked at the tall, swaying evergreens, and the birds calling and flying in the sky above. In the distance, behind some shrubbery, he spotted a deer poking its head at the ground, sniffing under the frost.

“Yes,” Caleb agreed, “Not a bad thing at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> As a gay guy and a tea fanatic, I knew Caduceus was going to be my new favorite character the moment he appeared. I wrote a little something to welcome him to the show (and my heart).
> 
> As always, Comments and Kudos are appreciated. I still don't have a beta, so if you see and grammar errors or spelling mistakes, I'd appreciate them being pointed out. Thanks!


End file.
